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Travel, Dance, Minimalism (Some poetry, some books, some art)

bullies

So I went back Home (?) last weekend, ostensibly for a class reunion. Our little dinky informal five-year potluck thingy.

If you know me at all you know that high school was the black pit for me. I listened to emo music 24-7 and spend most of my time alone in my room. I was… unpopular. To put it lightly. I recall a particularly unflattering comment made about me being “Yeah I’d f*** her, but only if she had a bag over her face so I didn’t have to see it”.

I have dreams about high school. Sometimes I feel like I’m living my life to impress “Those People”. And I feel weird about this. I want to let go of the bitterness, and move on.

So I went back.

Awkward. Awkward. So awkward. I have NOTHING in common with them. (Except for one girl that I ran into who I used to be close with and still really admire and respect).

When I was in a situation where I needed to mingle and try to talk to people I panicked. I didn’t know what to say.

I felt myself regressing back to former self status. Uncomfortable in a way that I haven’t felt in five years.

Those are not my people.

Why did I subject myself to that? I’m glad it’s done. I’m glad I’m back in Fargo with the people I trust, the people I can say anything to, the people who do not judge me. I could taste the relief when I finally made it to my apartment.

I forget how lucky I am to have the friends that I do. They are so much more. I should have brought them with me, but I felt like this was something I needed to go do alone.

There is the bustling metropolis of Mott ND looming in the foreground.